ZANG TUMMM TUMB ARTICLES “the first draft of history”

“Here lies Tom bloody Jones!!”

Indeed. Well, thats what the legend of Welsh pop (?) wants inscribed on his gravestone when he pops his so-called clogs. “Never mind all that, how are the perv-breeks this ‘weather?” squawks Sylvia Patterson…

Tom Jones. Was there ever such a legendary lungsmith? No, there wasnt, for he is indeed the notorious Welsh “bard” who began “life” in the 1950s (when rock ‘n roll was invented) and he stunned the populace by swirling his leather-wrapped perv-hips and having a large chest with many hairs on, and all across the globe girlies began sobbing in their soda-pops (2d—a snip!) as the curdling billows of “My My Miiiiiih! Delilaaaah!!“ and many others wheeled their way into the portals of rock ‘n roll history. He is a legend for many reasons, is “Tom”. He did, after all, get married and have a son when he was 16—and he is still married to the very same wifey, whom no one in the whole world has ever seen (“Oooh, well, she doesnt like to be seen, shes not in showbusiness, shes a Welsh girl, you know, shes got green eyes, blonde hair… shes Welsh!”). And he invented the first nose-job in pop (“Well, I suppose I was one of the first, the operation wasnt too traumatic—Ive looked worse on a Saturday morning after a bout of fisticuffs…”). And he gets paid half a million dollars for every show he does in Las Vegas these days (“Weeell, you cant spend your life thinking about that—you have to get on with your bloody job!”). And he disappeared to his swank house in L.A. (man) for several hundred years and re-invented himself with the tonsil-quaverin “A Boy From Nowhere” a while ago, and now hes back—again!—with Princes perv-tune “Kiss”, “rearranged” by some arty geezer from arty bleep-band Art Of Noise…


And where pray, did this dubious combination meet? “We actually met on holiday in the Bahamas,” whimfs JJ from Art Of Noise, the “mastermind” behind the whole shebang, “and Tom was out in a power boat and I ran into him by accident. I was on skis, you see. I swore at him and he said, ‘Who dyou think you are? and I said ‘Who dyou think you are? Er… Tom Jones Hihih.”

And then they didnt meet again until Tom performed his “unique” rendition of Princes “Kiss” on Jonathan Ross TV show, The Last Resort, where he behaved unspeakably pervily and had lots of people fling their breeks at him just like housewives oer the globe do whenever he shakes a “leg” on stage, such is his unspeakable sex-godness.

“And we got such a good reaction,” says Tom in his “notorious” Welsh burr, “that we thought, ‘why not record it properly?. But differently. Ive always liked Prince—especially his writing, not so much his vocals, its not what I… er… well, I… haah hahah!!!? Its not very… fat! Its… erm… a thin voice… it is weedy, yes, and I think he would admit to that. But I even used to perform ‘Purple Rain in my set! Oh yes! I mean, its a big strong powerful ballad—Aretha Franklin could have done it! Um… want a cup of tea, luv?”

Oooh yes, please! So where are all your magnificent perv-breeks today?

“Well, I didnt think I needed all that for this because the song a sexy enough in itself: I havent abandoned the leathers though. Certainly not! Thats what the show is all about! I mean, it all started for convenience, really! Because I perspire, you see. I perspire even when Im sitting around—so when Im performing its easier if I get out of the clothes. It was never meant as an effect—but it works as one anyway heheh.”

Youve got lots of famous big pals, havent you?

“Oh no, not really. I know them but theyre not big mates. I know Mick Jagger and I knew Elvis quite well and I met Michael Jackson once—he lives just up the road from me. Hes a very quiet person. He showed up at my house one night. He rang the bell and I opened it and there he was. So I said ‘come in and we had a chat about music but its very difficult to get anything out of him—hes not very open. And hes a vegetarian and he doesnt drink alcohol so I was a little stuck there haahah!!”

What do you spend your unspeakable wealth on?

“Well, what does anybody spend their money on? Cups of tea! How many cups of tea can you drink!? Haahah! Well, I mean, when I first made a lot of money, when I had my first hit single I was 24 and I went overboard. I bought a house, a car, more cars than I could even bloody think about driving! And when you go to buy clothes you say ‘How many colours have you got? Ill have the bloody lot! And then youre stuck with all this bloody stuff and it becomes a headache, so you stop. Health is the most important thing in life, Ive found. Ive always been a drinking man, myself, but Ive never got involved in the drug situation or anything—I think thats whats saved me.”

Why do you say “bloody” so much?

“Because Im a bloody Welshman! Oh, I dont know, do I say bloody a lot? Well, I was never aware of it!! Bloody ‘ell!”

Whats your house like?

“Oh, its a red brick very English house. Its not that big—six bedrooms, big rooms. I havent got a pervy bed! Its a brass bed—actually Im quite a traditionalist.”

Who are your favourite pop starts these days?

“Oooh, well, I like Robert Palmer, hes a good singer. I like Rick Astley—hes got a powerful voice. Funnily enough I was speaking to an actor friend at a function—Vince Edwards, he used to be Doctor Ben Casey on the TV—and he told me he thought Rick Astley was my son! ‘I bet Rick Astley is the son of Tom Jones! he thought. Heheh. There is a similarity! A great set of pipes…”

Who taught you to swivel your hips?

“Well, Ive always liked dancing. I used to go dancing when I was a kid, I just did what felt natural. I really do believe I was born to do this anyway—its a God-given gift. Even when I was a kid Id go singing in the Welsh hillsides and when I was like, six or seven, wed have family and friends round the house for get-togethers and things and everybody had to do something, a party-piece, so that was a great opportunity for me to show off. So Id get up there and sing and swivel my hips! Even then! They say ‘Oooh, Tom—he always wanted to stand on the table when he sang.

(cont.)
They enjoyed the singing—and the rest of it, well, they thought I was just being… wicked heheh.”

Tom Jones—you are a legend—what are you going to have inscribed upon your gravestone?

“A legend? Thank you! Oooh. Ive never really thought of that before. I suppose ‘Here Lies Tom Bloody Jones!”…